


Teach me something, please

by Nival_Vixen



Series: Word of the day [16]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, BAMF Lydia Martin, Complete, Everybody Lives, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Kate is psycho, M/M, Miscommunication, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Witch Lydia, Witches, Wizard Derek, Wizard Stiles, Wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 01:31:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1800517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nival_Vixen/pseuds/Nival_Vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an attempt on their family's lives, Derek and Cora are transferred from Beauxbatons to Hogwarts. Derek needs help with Transfiguration, and Stiles is volunteered to tutor him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach me something, please

**Author's Note:**

> Word of the day: transfigure

There was no way that Stiles could have missed the news, even though he was almost bound to the Prefect's carriage for most of the trip to Hogwarts. Derek Hale and his younger sister Cora had transferred from Beauxbatons to Hogwarts. Everyone knew who the Hales were, of course. The first out 'n proud werewolf family since Fenir Greyback's death in the Final War, and since Remus Lupin had been awarded an Order of Merlin by Harry Potter himself.

Of course, just because a war had been won, it didn't mean that old bigotries didn't exist, and the Argent family were French purebloods to the extreme. (The Black family were most likely the Argent's closest British equivalent, and it didn't surprise Stiles in the slightest to discover that the Black and Argent lines had crossed several times over the years; Black and Silver, how could they resist?) Kate Argent had taken it upon herself to 'rid the earth of that werewolf scum' (her words, quoted in big bold print on every major tabloid and newspaper throughout the wizarding world) and had set the Hale house alight. It hadn't worked - Mr. Hale was a wizard and a stronger one than Kate ever would be; he knew exactly how to extinguish the spreading fire, and while it was claimed that Peter Hale swore revenge on the Argent bitch (again, quoting here; Stiles would never limit his swearing to something so  _Muggle_ ), no one was harmed. Still, it had been decided that Derek and Cora should switch schools in case others in France tried to accomplish what Kate hadn't.

"Stiles, where are your robes?" Lydia asked, eyebrow raised and arms folded across her chest.

He frowned, patting his chest in a dramatic manner. "Could've sworn I had them around here somewhere. Ah!" he exclaimed, pulling a thread from his sleeve.

The thread grew bigger and bigger, until it was a complete swatch of material, only to reveal his Ravenclaw robes when Stiles had pulled it out of his sleeve completely. Lydia didn't look impressed.

"Oh, come on, Lyds! I worked on that trick all summer; not even a smile?"

One side of her mouth twitched, and Stiles grinned broadly, counting it as a complete success.

"Now that the entertainment for the day is over, let's get down to business," Lydia said, looking around the carriage at the rest of the fifth, sixth, and seventh year Prefects.

Despite the fact that Lydia was in her sixth year (along with Stiles, Scott, and Kira), the seventh years had obviously decided to let her handle everything anyway. The Head Boy and Girl actually looked a little overwhelmed, Stiles noted, and couldn't help but grin as Lydia took control of the situation. She deferred to her elders when required, but apart from getting them to tell the others the rules and what the consequences would be for breaking said rules or abusing their power as Prefects, Lydia ruled the meeting with an iron fist.

Stiles tried not to laugh when a seventh year boy looked at her in a mix of terror and admiration after she opened the door without her wand or a word said. The boy was going to be in for a shock when he found out that Lydia was dating Jackson, a Slytherin (and the douchiest Slytherin to ever douche, in Stiles' opinion), a pureblood, and Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

Apart from idle chatter and speculation about the Hales, the train trip was kind of boring for Stiles, especially without Scott beside him as was the norm. But then, since Kira and Scott had apparently gotten together over the summer break, Stiles was kind of glad to not be the third wheel in that disgustingly cute relationship. Gryffindors, the both of them, and Stiles just knew that the first Hogsmeade weekend would probably involve Madam Pudifoots. He shuddered at the thought. Then the trolley lady came in, and Stiles knew that he had at least six Sickles to spend on making himself sick with junk food. He pushed all other thought out of his head and concentrated very seriously on his selection of Chocolate Frogs and Fizzing Whizzbees.

...

It isn't until the Sorting Ceremony that Stiles remembers the Hales, and it's not his fault that he ate so many Fizzing Whizzbees that Lydia had to get him off the train carriage roof, and everyone knows that crashing after Fizzing Whizzbees is an ultimate downer that makes you want to crawl under a table for hours. (Which he can't do, so Stiles had to settle with keeping his head on the table instead. At least Scott had been somewhat sympathetic on his way over to the Gryffindor table, his fingers laced with Kira's and both of them smiling goofily.)

"Hale, Cora," Flitwick called.

Usually Flitwick's voice was enough to make Stiles smile, but seriously, extreme sugar crash here.

"Gryffindor!"

The applause made Stiles groan;  _didn't these people respect their elders who were in a lot of pain?!_

"Hale, Derek," Flitwick called.

Okay, Stiles was curious enough to look up to see the older Hale, and the moment he did, his jaw kind of dropped. Derek was, without a doubt, gorgeous. Thick dark hair, green eyes that were probably bewitched because they weren't just green, and a jawline that Stiles immediately had a desire to bite.  _What sort of seventh year had stubble?! Sure, it wasn't a lot, but Merlin's baggy y-fronts, it suited Derek just fine_. Stiles just hoped that Derek couldn't hear his stuttering heartbeat over the noise of the rest of the student population.

"Hufflepuff!"

The scowl on Derek's face could probably be seen in outer space by those Muggle satellites, but he went over to the Hufflepuff table without a word, the applause smattering and not as deafening as Cora's had been. Stiles amped up his applause a bit to make him feel better, even though it made Lydia look at him oddly. He pretended to ignore her and rested his head on the table again until the final student had been called, and the usual welcoming feast appeared.

"I'm going to regret helping you study to become Prefect, aren't I?" she asked with a sigh.

"Probably. Should've thought of that before, Lyds!" Stiles said with a grin. "Ooh, pumpkin tart. Pass the chicken?"

Lydia rolled her eyes, but placed a piece of chicken on his offered plate anyway. Stiles grinned and turned his attention back to his food. Food was always a good idea.

(An hour and a half later, his stomach bulging and his legs feeling weighed down by the amount of food he had consumed, Stiles didn't even have the energy to disagree with himself. Food was  **not**  always a good idea.)

...

The year started off quietly enough, and the Hales slipped into anonymity as the weeks passed. It was only Stiles actively searching out the dark hair and green-blue-gold eyes that he really saw Derek Hale in the castle. He always looked out for him and Cora the day after a full moon, and while they seemed pale and haggard, they were both being taken care of by Remus Lupin and his wife, Tonks. Neville Longbottom, the Herbology Professor, seemed to have a knack for potions and helped with a potion to moderate the after-effects of being a werewolf. Neither Derek nor Cora resisted their wolf, as Remus once had, and they seemed better for it. Not that Stiles was an expert of course. But, by the amount of werewolf-related books he came across in the library, Stiles would probably know more about them than the Hales by the next full moon.

Stiles was smart in his own right. Lydia could claim smartest witch of their age, but Stiles was pretty sure he'd get smartest wizard of their age (even though some of the professors might not like it, since he could be a prankster like Fred and George Weasley before him, or the Marauders before them, much to the professor's chagrin. Stiles also had a way of convincing Scott to join him on their adventures, and Kira had been surprisingly easy to convince; Stiles suspected she enjoyed breaking the rules more than he did). Sometimes, his smarts got him in trouble: the final practical question of his Transfiguration O.W.L.s. had required a Vanishing Spell, and Stiles had accidentally vanished not only the lizard, but the table, and his chair as well. He passed with flying colours and a reprimand. Other times, his smarts had him tutoring other students. It was usually at a teacher's request, and only as a last resort because Stiles' method of teaching was rather practical (apparently, not everyone responded well to Stiles running after them and trying to blast his way through a barely erected deflecting shield with his wand; the kid passed, so Stiles still isn't sure what the fuss was about).

Stiles was called to Professor McGonagall's Headmaster's office the morning of a Hogsmeade weekend, and while she seemed somewhat amused at his choice of attire (he'd charmed the fox on his shirt to run around and yap, though silently for now, since he had yet to work out how to give it a voice), McGonagall informed him that he may have to cut his trip to Hogsmeade short this weekend. It seemed that Stiles'  _unique_  tutoring style was required for Derek Hale. Derek was having difficulty with some of the more basic seventh year Transfiguration spells, and without Stiles' help, Derek may not be able to pass his N.E.W.T. exam and achieve his dream to become an Auror. Stiles, who's father was an Auror, had the exact same dream, and ol' McG sure knew how to press his buttons.

"All right, I'll help him. Where is he?"

"Mr. Hale is in the Transfiguration classroom waiting for you. Thank you for offering to do this, Mr. Stilinski," she added with a brief smile.

He finished off his biscuit and nodded in return, standing and wiping his hands on his pants as he turned to leave.

"And Mr. Stilinski? Try to understand that Derek is still in an unfamiliar place with none of his usual friends or securities. His sister is somewhat more outgoing than Mr. Hale - " that was an understatement; Stiles had heard about her throwing Dungbombs at the Astronomy Tower and interrupting the would-be-lovers with the foul stench as she cackled in delight at the foot of the stairs below " - and he does not have the same ability as Miss Hale to make friends."

"Yes, Professor McGonagall. I'll be on my best behaviour."

"Thank you. And while you're being so obliging, perhaps you could have a quiet word to Mr. Greenberg about his Quidditch game commentary?"

Stiles snorted at that; Greenberg and McGonagall's ongoing rivalry over what was appropriate commentary for the school Quidditch games was legendary.

"I'm not sure it'd do much good, Professor McGonagall. Not without questionable personality altering charms," he added with a grin.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow and shook her head. Stiles took that as his dismissal and headed to the Transfiguration classroom with a whistle. Stiles found that he actually didn't mind missing out on Hogsmeade; he'd already stocked up on Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes a fortnight ago, and the owners of Honeydukes were probably cackling in glee with the amount he'd spent just last week alone. Besides, Scott and Kira were on a double-date with Lydia and Jackson, and Stiles had no wish to be the fifth wheel on that awkward and terrifying date. (Lydia and Kira were actually really good friends, and while Jackson and Scott were never going to be best buddies, they no longer tried to hex each other on sight.)

"... don't care; I hate it here. I just want to go back home."

Stiles stopped at the door with a wince, doubting he should be hearing Derek's conversation, one-sided though it was. He knocked on the door firmly and waited.

"Yeah?" Derek called.

Breathing a small sigh of relief that he hadn't been left standing out in the corridor like an idiot, Stiles opened the door and walked inside.

"Hey. Professor McGonagall said you needed help with Transfiguration?"

Derek frowned at him, as if he'd been expecting something ... well,  _more_  than what Stiles was.

" _You're_  going to help me with Transfiguration? What are you, a fourth year?"

"F-fourth year?" Stiles choked. "I'm a sixth year, thank you very much! And if you want my help, then you'd better be a little nicer!"

Derek's eyebrows burrowed together as he scowled at Stiles.

"Yeah, my tutoring, my rules. Like it or leave it, big guy; I do have other things to do," Stiles muttered.

Derek's expression faltered, and he looked a little ashamed all of a sudden, which in turn made Stiles feel like crap.

"Sorry. You've probably got a date or something at Hogsmeade. You should go; I'll owl you later."

"No. Uh, sorry... I've got no... I mean, there's no... Look, let's just start over, okay?" Stiles suggested with a big sigh. "Hi, I'm Stiles Stilinski, and I'll be your tutor for Transfiguration."

"Derek. Hale," Derek added, holding out his hand for Stiles to shake.

Stiles grinned and shook his hand. "Great to meet you, Derek. Now, let's just see where you're up to, and we'll work from there. Can you do a Switching spell?" Stiles asked.

Derek scowled again and shook his head briefly. "The magic taught at Beauxbatons is different than the ones here. I can conjure up an entire dinner setting, but switching it to something else isn't considered practical. Why bother when it's just as easy to make it from the start, without having to worry about the other item's properties?" Derek muttered, his scowl still firmly in place.

"Your scowl is seriously impressive. I don't think I've ever seen a Hufflepuff scowl like that before. Way to throw off the stereotypes there, Derek," Stiles said, grinning broadly. His expression fell when Derek didn't seem impressed, and he coughed slightly. "You could be right about that, but by switching an item, you're actually using less energy. You don't have to destroy or vanish the old one, you're simply reshaping it into the new thing you want. Bring up that dinner setting for me, and I'll show you what I mean."

Derek didn't even blink, and then there in the middle of the classroom was a twelve-piece dinner setting, complete with three-course crockery and cutlery, a tablecloth and silver runner, and even padded chairs.

" _Merlin's beard!_  Can you do that again?!" Stiles asked excitedly, vanishing the setting.

Derek seemed surprised at his excitement, but nodded, and again, the twelve-piece appeared. Stiles took a chance, pulling out a chair and sitting on it promptly.

"I think I'm in love with this chair. The wooden planks in the Great Hall are unforgiving on my poor butt. We should have  _these_  chairs instead," Stiles murmured happily, wiggling his butt on the chair.

Derek made a sort of choking sound, and Stiles looked over at him, flushing and getting off the chair quickly.

"Uh, sorry about that... Okay. Now, let's say you've lost a guest, but need more napkins 'cause Aunt Susan's a messy eater or something, right? Instead of vanishing the setting and redoing it for eleven people, you just switch one of the settings for a stack of napkins... And strategically place them next to Aunt Susan's seat," Stiles muttered, doing the switch spell to demonstrate.

Derek kind of smiled at Stiles' large stack of napkins, so it wasn't a total loss. Over the next few hours, Stiles figured out that Derek had a basic knowledge of Transfiguration, but he was powerful with it. (He completed a hundred-piece setting at Stiles' insistence, though the plates were all different colours.) He worked much better with practical applications of the spells, and liked being told why rather than just the how. While Stiles couldn't exactly explain every spell (he had no idea why someone would turn a poor hedgehog into a pin cushion; just buy a pin cushion! It was half a Knut on Diagon Alley, for Merlin's sake), he certainly tried his best.

It wasn't until his stomach started making grumbling noises (he thought he'd accidentally figured out how to give his fox a voice at first), that Stiles realised they hadn't stopped for lunch. He felt comfortable enough with Derek by then to grab his hand and pull him down to the kitchen for lunch.

By the end of that month, it felt like they were best friends. Stiles spent time with Derek outside of his tutoring, trying his hardest to make the stoic boy laugh or smile (he rarely succeeded, but when he did, Stiles' stomach did flip flops); Derek waited for Stiles outside of his classroom when they went to study in the library; Stiles made sure that he always had an apple or two in his bag because Derek got hungry between meals and would try to drag him to the kitchen rather than study; and when he finally cajoled Stiles into going to the kitchen with him, Derek made sure the house elves prepared Stiles' hot chocolate just the way he liked it.

...

Things were going great, and it continued to be that way for the next few months, long after Derek caught up to (and started to surpass) the rest of his class. Then Stiles got asked on a date. Heather was a Ravenclaw who'd been acquaintance-more-than-a-friend with Stiles since their first year, and while he'd never really noticed her as more than a Housemate, she must have noticed him.

Heather asked him to go to Hogsmeade with her, and Stiles was surprised to find that his first thought wasn't 'yes, yes, yes!' as he thought it would've been. Instead, he thought about Derek, and how they had plans to go to the Shrieking Shack that weekend because the full moon was coming up and the wooden shack was sadly bereft of things that could help Derek calm his wolf down. They'd put together a little care package with blankets and his favourite pillow, and while Stiles didn't like the chances of the pillow surviving, he'd still shoved it in the box for Derek anyway.

Apparently, Stiles had taken too long to answer, because Heather made a small noise of disbelief and turned to go up to the girls' dormitories, one of her friends glaring at him before following after her. Stiles was kind of pissed at himself too, but stupidly, he took his anger out on Derek that night at their study session.

"I got out asked out on a date today," Stiles admitted soon after Derek arrived.

Derek stopped short as the door closed behind him, and stared at Stiles. "Oh. Who are you going to Hogsmeade with?" he asked tightly, his fists clenched by his sides.

" _No one_. I got so caught up in thinking about you, and the plans we'd made this weekend that Heather thought I was rejecting her, and she left! I think I made her cry... Do you know how long I've waited for anyone to see me as more than a friend?" Stiles asked, almost hysterically. "I've been waiting a very, very long time! Coming into manhood early is not a good thing when there's no one to share it with! I've been hitting it off by myself for a good six years, Derek, and I just blew the one chance I'll probably ever have because everything in my life is about you! I'm going to die alone, and it's all your fault!"

"What?" Derek frowned, obviously confused.

Stiles couldn't bring himself to explain that he was spending way too much time thinking about Derek in a not-the-way-friends-think-of-each-other kind of way. Like Derek's hands, his shoulders, his lips, his smile that made Stiles crazy, the laugh that made him want to kiss Derek, the way he'd look sad and lonely sometimes and Stiles just wanted to hug him for hours until he smiled again, the way he would pretend to be all rough and gruff around others, but the minute a kid was crying, Derek would be right there beside them with a hanky and chocolate. He wanted Derek to go on dates with him (he'd even thought about going to Madam Pudifoot's, and that's when Stiles knew he was totally gone), he wanted to kiss Derek, to tickle him, to cuddle with him, have sex with him (dear Merlin, he'd thought about that for  _hours_ , only stopping when he realised that the scent of his desire and lust had probably permeated through the entire freaking castle and that was  _embarrassing_ ). Stiles wanted to do  _everything_  with Derek, even argue with him over the most basic things, and he didn't want to admit it aloud, but that was the real reason he hadn't answered Heather. Admitting something as epically fucked up as this would ruin his perfectly good friendship with Derek, and he didn't want that at all. While Stiles did have Scott, Kira, and Lydia, he still didn't have many people he could call friends. He didn't want to lose Derek over something like this.

"Oh, never mind; you wouldn't understand," Stiles snarled at him, somehow actually pushing past Derek and leaving the room before he could answer.

Stiles went straight to Ravenclaw Tower to wallow in misery and the kilo of Choc Peanut Butter Buttery Sticks he'd bought from Honeydukes.

...

"Look, Stiles. I understand that you're heart-broken for whatever reason, and you've probably eaten your solid weight in Honeydukes products, but you are still a Prefect, and you have your duties. You are meant to be patrolling tonight, so either you get dressed and get out there, or I  **will**  throw you out there in your pyjamas and change the tower password."

"I hate you," Stiles groaned from under his blanket.

He'd been too depressed to eat in his room because he had his fox shirt hanging over his chair and it reminded him of Derek so badly that he couldn't stay there any longer, so he'd tugged his blanket off his bed and dragged it down to the Common Room to wallow instead.

"No, you don't. Now, get up and put your robe on. Give me the box of chocolates.  _Now_ , Stiles!" Lydia demanded, scattering the few braver Ravenclaws who'd stayed to witness his wallowing.

Muttering under his breath, Stiles handed the box over to her and pulled his robe on forcefully.

"There, happy?"

"Get out of here, Stilinski, or so help me, I will owl your father."

"You wouldn't dare," Stiles said, but made his way to the exit anyway.

Lydia was the kind of witch to follow through on her threats, after all.

...

Stiles was halfway through his patrol (he was waiting at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower, hoping to take out some of his emotion on the hapless teens who'd come to neck) when he got hit by a Howler. Literally.

Cursing to himself, Stiles grabbed the bright red envelope out of the air and ran to the closest prefect's bathroom, hoping for an ounce of privacy. He had no idea who'd be angry enough with him to send him a Howler;  _Lydia knew that he was patrolling, right?!_

"STILES, I DON'T CARE WHO YOU THINK YOU ARE! HOW DARE YOU BREAK DEREK'S HEART LIKE THAT! IF I WERE THERE, YOU WOULD BE DEAD, YOU HEAR ME?! Shut up, Boyd, he doesn't  _know_  that! I'D WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR SCRAWNY LITTLE NECK AND SQUEEZE SO TIGHT YOUR HEAD WOULD POP OFF! DEREK'S DONE NOTHING BUT TALK ABOUT YOU SINCE YOU STARTED TUTORING HIM, AND THEN YOU GO AND DO THIS TO HIM! HE'S BEEN IN LOVE WITH YOU FOR MONTHS, YOU FUCKING IDIOT, AND YOU JUST GO AND KICK HIM IN THE GUTS WHILE HE'S ALREADY DOWN?! YOU MARCH YOUR ASS DOWN TO THE HUFFLEPUFF COMMON ROOM AND FIND HIM! THIS INSTANT!"

The Howler didn't seem to be finished yet - maybe this terrifying girl was just taking a breather and drinking some water? - and Stiles stood there staring at it with wide eyes.

"Uh, by the way, this is Erica, Derek's best friend from Beauxbatons. And Boyd.  _Say hi, Boyd_. Ugh, fine, don't then. Boyd's here, trust me on that. And he's just as pissed off as I am. Well, almost.  _Stop shaking your head, damn it, Boyd!_  Anyway, you're both idiots for taking so long to get anywhere with this. Now can you just go profess your undying love for Derek so he can stop howling in misery already?!"

Stiles started running out of the prefect's bathroom before the Howler finished burning up into a pile of ash.

Thanks to his status as a Prefect, Stiles knew just which barrel to tap in order to gain access to the Hufflepuff Common Room. Despite that, he still spent a few minutes trying to find out where the student dormitories were, getting repelled out of the girls' one twice before he realised there was another door.

He found the seventh year's room easily enough (they were all labelled, just like Ravenclaw and Gryffindor), and Stiles tried to keep quiet as he slipped inside. Derek's bed had the curtains closed firmly, and Stiles felt awful all over again. He was careful not to wake up Derek's roommates as he made his way over to Derek's bed. Stiles was pretty sure that Derek must've heard him coming, and was proven right when his curtains opened a moment later, Derek snarling at him softly.

Despite the low light in the room, Stiles could see the tears in Derek's eyes. He moved forward without thinking (thankfully, Derek didn't stop him), and Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Derek. I'm an idiot and you deserve better than me," Stiles murmured softly so as to not disturb the others, but loud enough for Derek to hear. "I didn't mean to hurt you; I just really didn't think you'd ever like me the way I liked you, and I took that out on you. By all rights, you have every reason to hate me."

Derek was silent for a moment, Stiles' heart hammering in his chest, but then he nuzzled his face against Stiles' stomach before turning his head up to look at him.

"I could never hate you, Stiles," he said, smiling gently.

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief and kissed Derek. He gasped slightly as Derek pulled him onto the bed, closing the curtains around them. Derek gave a quick grin, as brilliant as the gold flash of his eyes, and tugged on Stiles' robes until he was lying on top of his chest firmly.

"Sleep now, we'll talk more in the morning," Derek murmured, yawning.

Curling a fist in Derek's shirt, Stiles closed his eyes and fell asleep in Derek's warm embrace.

...

In the morning, they'd talk and apologise again, until they started kissing more than they spoke. They'd go to Hogsmeade together (not Madam Putifoot's, thank you very much) and Stiles avoided Honeydukes for a good two hours, much to Derek's confusion.

A few months later, Stiles would meet not only the rest of the Hales at Derek's graduation, but Erica and Boyd too. He would be somewhat terrified until Erica got a piggyback ride from Boyd, laughing as he took her around the Great Hall; and only relaxing after Mrs. Hale hugged Stiles within an inch of his life, Laura and the rest of their family laughing behind them.

A year later (which included a few more arguments, a lot more kissing, full moons, misunderstandings, communication issues, and a lot of owling back and forth), Stiles graduated from Hogwarts as well, and his father was finally able to meet Derek and the rest of the Hales in person (they came to support Stiles, and if John Stilinski had never heard a thing about them before then, he knew that he would have liked them just for that anyway).

Stiles joined Derek in the Ministry as an Auror, Kira joining them after a few months of deliberation. Scott apprenticed under Hagrid to be the next Care of Magical Creatures Professor. Lydia couldn't talk about her job, but Stiles knew that it was within the Department of Mysteries, and he was somewhat terrified to think of what would be coming out of that department in the upcoming years. Jackson got into the political side of the Ministry, intent on running for Minister one day (Stiles and Derek both believed that Lydia had a hand in that).

Absolutely no one was surprised when Stiles proposed to Derek a few years later (in the middle of a job, of course), though Minerva McGonagall was surprised to receive an invitation to their wedding, along with a note of sincere thanks from the two grooms-to-be.

...

The end.

Thanks for reading!


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